Michelle's Big Suprise!
by Mandi5
Summary: This was born of a thread in 24 S5 spoiler’s folder & is faintly reminiscent of the deleted scene in S2 where George is happily chucking up in the restroom. Does NOT contain any S5 spoilers. Just some whacky speculation! Final chapter now up! please R
1. Chapter 1

Michelle's Big Surprise!

CTU, female restroom  
8.05am

"Arrrrggghhhh! God no! Please, no more!" Michelle uttered a very heart-felt prayer in between gasping and retching as her stomach heaved and lurched and she gripped the sides of the bowl for support.

She was on her knees for the third time this morning - twice to be sick since she came into work and once in the shower at home with Tony – um, never mind.

She dry heaved a couple more times – the nausea was still there but the stomach contents were long gone.

* * *

Strange, she thought. You'd think a cheese, pickled onion and Snicker bar sandwich for breakfast would have stayed down a lot longer.

* * *

Finally it seemed to be over and she forced herself to stand up. Still shaking and weak she washed her face and looked in the mirror.

"Oh God!" Her hair was a mess.

She brushed her teeth and whipped out a comb and in five minutes she was all fresh-faced, beautiful and her curls were sitting perfectly. She was once again the Michelle Dessler of old.

As she walked past the locker room her eyes strayed to her locker and the pregnancy test kit that she'd bought yesterday. For a second she considered taking the test, but a moment of Kim Bauer-like logic told her that a positive test would only make it real and while it wasn't real she could pretend that maybe it was just good old fashioned radiation poisoning. After all, she lived in LA and worked in CTU.

For Michelle, denial was still a good place to be right now.

* * *

Upstairs in CTU, they were taking bets. Pregnancy was 10/1 and radiation poisoning was evens – after all they were in LA and worked in CTU. Dodgy food was an outsider at 100/1.

* * *

Chloe was running the book and so far she had gathered over fifteen thousand dollars in bets from both CTU and Division. She was also running a second, more secret, book which rested on the pregnancy speculation winning and if that was the case then the biggest bets would be on the potential paternity suit that would soon be filed.  
Tony was an outsider at 150/1. Jack Bauer was in at 50/1. The Ghosts of Ryan Chappelle and George Mason were neck and neck at 30/1. Big Bill 'The Canon' Buchanan was second favourite at 10/1, but Immaculate Conception was favourite at 7/4. After all, Tony and Michelle didn't seem to get a whole lot of down time together.

As she counted the money, Chloe realised she would need some DNA samples before any payout could be made on the second round of betting.

* * *

Meanwhile, Tony had nipped out to the ATM to withdraw some money because deep down he was a gambling man and he had won over three thousand dollars when he correctly predicted that George Mason's nausea was not caused by either pregnancy or dodgy food. Tony had put a hundred dollars on the possibility that George had been nuked, and punched the air in victory when George himself had confirmed this with his famous "Remember the whorehouse in Panorma City?" speech - or something like that.

Tony then went on to win a further six hundred and fifty dollars by correctly predicting the hour of George's death. When it had been confirmed that the plane had crashed into the desert and the nuke had exploded Tony had yelled in delight.

* * *

Right now, Tony was sitting at his desk, his hand deep in his pocket as he played with the large roll of banknotes.

"You are sooo disgusting," Chloe frowned as she watched him, not realising it was money in his pocket.

Tony ignored her and dreamed about how he would spend his winnings. First of all he would buy himself a big Merc SUV, just like the one his wife drove. Then he'd buy a new Cubs mug to replace the one Jen threw against the wall. Then maybe he'd take Michelle to Hawaii, or that recently discovered Lost island about a thousand miles from Fiji. He'd also squirreled some away for a good defence lawyer in case he was charged with treason again. Shit happened, y'know.

As he was mulling all this over his phone rang.

"Uh - Almedia," he said.

"Uh - Tony?"

"Uh - yeah?"

"It's uh - me, Jen. Look, uh, I'm pregnant."

His world caved in. He put the phone down and looked up. Michelle was walking towards him. Her hair was immaculate – every perfect curl in place - and her cheeks were glowing. She was either pregnant or had she radiation poisoning. Right now he kinda - uh - hoped it was the latter.

* * *

To be continued. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2. – The Jack Chapter - because after all he is the star!

Jack Bauer was off somewhere doing what he did best, because after all, he is Da Man! Y'know, killing some crazed (insert nationality) terrorists, scoring some heroin, rescuing his daughter, or explaining to his latest hottie that life with him was not without its perils.

"Juanita, it's simple. Every woman I've ever slept with has met a terrible end. I keep blaming the writers and the fans but somehow I know deep down that it's just my bad luck."

"How es that?" she asked, still innocent despite ten years in Pedro's brothel.

"My wife, Teri, she died. She was murdered by my lover, Nina Myers, who turned out to be a mole of undetermined nationality."

"This Neener, she loved you, no?" Juanita asked.

"Uh – well, yes. Probably. In a sick, perverted sort of way. But I could never forgive her for killing Teri. "

"Yeah si, I comprende. Sheet, et happens." Juanita nodded wisely as she poured them both another tequila.

"My daughter is called Kim. She is as dumb as any blonde you've ever met. . . ."

Juanita angrily tossed her dyed blonde locks.

". . . but deep down she is as wise as the daughter of any fed could ever be. Yet, the times I've had to rescue her, untie her, go her bail – I've lost count," Jack sighed.

"Madre di Dios!"

"Tell me about it," Jack sighed and took a long, deep slug of his tequila.

"Then there was Kate," he continued. "Ahh, she was hot. Verry hot. Also very cool. Sexy, blonde and well built. I think I loved her, but. . . ."

"But?"

"But I still grieved for my wife. And, I don't like to admit it on a public forum but I still missed Neener, I mean Nina."

"Neener was hot? Si?"

"Yeah. She was hotter than you could ever imagine. I remember when she had me tied up and she was threatening me and she kissed me and she ran her hands up and down my thighs and I was straining to . . . ."

Juanita yawned and glanced at her watch. She prayed this story would end soon.

"Um - Audrey was great too. She was a bit of a daddy's girl but very loving. Now, all I got to warm my bed is Soon Ying. She's great but I lately got a bad history with the Chinese."

Juanita decided she'd listened to enough.

"Jack," she whispered in his ear. "Either fuck me and pay me many pesos or lemme go home. Buffy es on."

Jack sighed and not for the first time wondered how life was back at CTU.

* * *

Back at CTU everyone was on red alert. Chloe had already alerted Division and Big Bill was on his way over.

Michelle had considered nipping down to the CTU clinic for some anti-nausea pills but when she remembered their track record, plus the fact that George Mason had died shortly after downing a bottle or two of CTU's "Special" Anti-Nausea pills, she decided she'd just stick with a glass of warm milk.

Tony was still in shock after Jen's phone call and feeling a little bit sick himself.

* * *

To be continued after Buffy.  
Mandi :) 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Arrggh! Beucchhhh!" Michelle made it to the rest room in just time, dropping to her sore knees and clutching the rim as she hurled the vodka and marmalade croissant she had eaten not five minutes before. Maybe she should reassess her diet.

Tony politely waited until she had finished before rubbing his forehead.

"Uh, honey? We need to talk." He leaned against the tiled wall as Michelle rinsed her mouth and combed her hair. Only when she was satisfied that each perfect curl was correctly in place did she turn towards him. She smiled lovingly.

"No. We can't afford another SUV."

"Look. It's not uh – about the SUV, right? It's more important. It's about uh – Jen."

Michelle's perfect smile vanished and was replaced by an angry glare – the one she kept in reserve for every time 'the other woman' was mentioned. Tony saw it immediately and hot-footed it out of the ladies restroom faster than if he'd been offered the chance for some field work.

Field work scared Tony. Last time he'd been out in the field he'd been shot in the neck. He really hated field work. Besides he knew he looked so much better under the blue lights of CTU.

* * *

He touched the wad of banknotes in his pocket and made up his mind to go ahead anyway. 

"Hey, uh – Chloe. C'mere a sec."

"What?"

"You uh – still running that book?"

"What book? I have no idea what you are talking about. Gambling is illegal. Even suggesting I'm running a book is enough grounds for me to make a complaint against you."

Tony sighed.

"I want to put three thousand dollars on Michelle being pregnant."

"Oh that book! Why didn't you say so?"

He handed her the banknotes.

With a disgusted look she took them, holding them gingerly between her finger and thumb as though they were used Kleenex.

"So, you're confidant that she's pregnant? Guess you should be the one to know, being her husband, like."

Tony feigned confidence and went back to his desk.

* * *

Over in the White House Mike Novack was having a really hard time. 

"Please Mr. President. It's okay. You can come out now. They've all gone away."

"Are you sure?" came the whimpered reply.

Mike shook his head sadly and peered behind the plush leather sofa. President Logan was still lying there, curled up in the fetal position, sucking his thumb and crying like agirl.

Mike pulled the sofa out a bit. Logan screamed and began to cry harder.

"Mr. President. You have to get a hold of yourself. They don't exist."

"They do. They do. They can climb the stairs now. I've seen them. Please don't let them find me. Pleaaaasssseeee Mike. Please."

Mike closed his eyes and counted to ten.

"Mr. President. You have the State Of The Nation speech in thirty minutes. CTU have been calling for the past hour, the First Lady is drunk again and the Blairs will be here at three o'clock. You really have to come out from behind the sofa. "

"The Blairs? God no! They're British too. They're the same. I bet they can also climb stairs. Just like 'they' can."

"Who can, Mr. President?"

"They. Them. You know."

"No. I don't know. Who?"

"Them. Over there." He pointed to the TV screen.

"Oh, for fucks sake!" Mike grabbed the remove and switched off the dvd player.

Surprised, Logan raised his head from behind the sofa. "You killed them! You're brilliant! How did you do that?"

"Dr. Who is just a TV show Mr. President," Mike sighed. "Daleks aren't real."

* * *

To be continued. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Tony was in a foul mood and cast smoldering glances at everyone as he glared over the top of his Cubs mug, sipping his coffee. It just wasn't the same, he thought with a grimace. Ever since Jen, in a fit of rage, had thrown it at him. She'd missed his head by about a mile but his precious mug had smashed against the wall, shattering into a million pieces – his heart shattering along with it.

It had lain there, broken beyond repair while he drank six bottles of beer and waited for the storm to pass before carefully picking up each tiny piece, debating whether or not it was repairable – deciding it wasn't, before ceremoniously and with tears of grief welling up in his eyes, he dumped it in the trash.

Three weeks later, in a fit of loving remorse, Jen had bought him a new one. He'd forgiven her immediately – kinda – and they'd ended up on his easy chair making mad passionate love while he watched a rerun of Kojak over her shoulder.

Tony did the math. That was probably when she'd become pregnant. He had been so engrossed in Kojak that he'd forgotten to put on a condom.

He took another mouthful of coffee. Fucking chaos theory, he thought. All it took was one fucking butterfly flapping its wings! If she hadn't smashed Cubby, she wouldn't be pregnant.

Life can't get worse, he thought. Can it?

Oh yes it can, he realized as he looked up and saw Buchanan striding into CTU and up the stairs to the director's office - Michelle hot on his heels.

He reached for the comfort of Cubby Two at the thought of them upstairs together.

Unfortunately, Cubby Two didn't have the intelligence nor the kind-hearted nature that a real Cubs Mug had and was unable, or unwilling, to console its master. It just sat there on the desk, half full of coffee.

* * *

The phone rang.

"Almeida!" Tony snapped. "Uh - okay. Hold on a sec."

He buzzed through to Buchanan.

"Uh - President Dickhea - I mean - Logan for you sir." Sarcasm dripped all over the phone as he spat the words out.

"Put him through," Buchanan said as he looked down at Tony from the glass wall in the office. He had a smirk on this face that would have made George Mason proud. For although Bill had assured Tony that his relationship with Michelle had never got off the ground that was only because they never did it on the ground. In the car, in his bed, in her bed, in the shower, in his hot tub. Just about everywhere except on the ground. The weather had been rainy in Seattle and the ground had been too muddy.

"Is he still dead?" Logan asked.

"Who?" Buchanan frowned.

"Bauer? Is she still dead? Please tell me he's still dead."

Bill sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward. "Yes Mr. President. I can confirm that Jack Bauer is still dead."

"You're sure?"

"Yes sir. I'm sure."

Sitting across the desk from Bill, Michelle blushed furiously and picked at a fingernail. She knew that Bill could read her like a book.

Probably remembering some of our good times together, Bill thought as he caught the blush.

Satisfied, Logan hung up. Bill sat down again and smiled at Michelle. "You wanted to see me?"

Michelle smiled. A perfect smile surrounded by those perfect curls. Seductively, she tucked one behind her ear.

"I have some wonderful news for you," Michelle said.

* * *

Tony's phone rang again and he snatched it up.

"Hi sexy," the sultry voice purred in his ear. "Wanna come over to my place and play hostage with me?"

"Gee, I'd love to but uh – I'm kinda busy right now and uh . . ."

"But it's my turn to strip you and tie you up?"

Tony could imagine the pout on the other end of the cell phone. "I uh – can't. It's raining. Last time we did it in the rain I got a real bad – uh – cold."

"But I want you to come over," she sulked. "I want to tie you up and cut your feet with a broken light bulb. 'Sides, I have something real important to tell you."

Tony's mind quickly slid into his favourite fantasy. The one she always made come true.

"Look, I can maybe get away uh - later," he told her. "What do you have to tell me?"

"I'm pregnant," Mandy said.

* * *

to be continued  
Mandi :) 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"You're kidding me. Right?" Bill went white with shock.

"No. It's definite," Michelle told him with a happy smile.

He ran a hand over his brow, felt the beads of sweat break out. This was totally out of the blue. He'd never seen it coming. He felt ill. This sort of news this early in the morning wasn't good for a man.

"God Almighty!" he exclaimed. "You're sure? You are one hundred percent sure?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"Wow!"

"You are pleased, aren't you Bill?" Michelle's smile faltered.

"Of course I'm pleased. Kinda."

Michelle's smile disappeared completely to be replaced by a frown.

"Y'know Bill, a wise man once said – 'there's no such a thing as kinda pleased. You're either pleased, or you aren't.' Are you sure that you are pleased?"

Bill stood up and paced around the office taking a moment to ponder the ramifications. He happened to glance down at the big room where everyone was working steadily and professionally. Every one that is, except for one man. This man now stared up at him with dark eyes that were full of anger and menace. Bill shivered as a ghost walked over his grave. He stepped back in fear as the man in question angrily stood up from his desk.

"How long have you known?" he asked her.

"A while. But that's not important. What is important is how you feel about it. Can you live with it? Are you okay with it?"

Bill paced some more. Could he? This was beyond anything he'd ever imagined – anything he'd ever hoped for, but could he deal with it? He turned towards her. God, she was beautiful. Those perfect lips that he had kissed. Those eyes – deep pools that he had gazed into. Those perfect curls that he'd entwined in his fingers as she lay beside him. Those perfect breasts that he'd . . .

He coughed.

"Have you told anyone else?"

"No. Not yet."

"Okay." Temporary relief flooded over him. "Let's keep it that way for the moment."

Michelle nodded and got up to leave.

"Michelle?"

She turned back. "What?"

"I am pleased. Really."

* * *

Tony watched Michelle and Bill, guessing exactly what they were discussing. He now had that sinking feeling one got when one realized one might just have backed the wrong horse. He had been crazy to use all his money. But he was desperate and desperate men do crazy things.

But just how desperate and how crazy would he become? How far would he go?

Well, right now he was only going as far as the ladies rest room. He had to find Chloe and speak to her before anyone else did.

* * *

Juanita took Jack's arm as they entered the very dimly lit cantina. She introduced Jack to the bar man.

"Thees es my cousin, Juan Pablo. Juan Pablo, thees es Jack."

Jack's mouth fell open as the two men shook hands.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Si. He es my cousin."

"Oh my God! Not THE Juan Pablo?"

"Si."

"Oh my God! Oh my God! I can't believe this! It's really you!" Jack gushed, skipping from one foot to the other with excitement and furiously shaking the smaller man's hand. "I've always wanted to meet you! I can't believe that I'm standing here shaking your hand! Oh my God! You have no idea what an honour this is!"

Juan Pablo merely shrugged. He was used to loco Americanos coming into his cantina and mistaking him for someone else. He poured them both coffee. "Thees es on me."

"You are sooo my hero. Can I have your autograph?" Jack asked, still gushing.

Juan Pablo shrugged again and scribbled something on a napkin and handed it to Jack who carefully folded it up and put it in his wallet.

"Oh, thank you so much!" he stammered as Juanita led him to a corner table.

Juan Pablo Salazar watched them. His eyes narrowed in hate and because the cantina was so dark. This was Jack Bauer. This was the man who had killed his uncles, Hector and Ramon.

* * *

to be continued  
Mandi :) 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Big Bill was in a mood to celebrate and was handing out Cuban cigars like there was no tomorrow. As a result of this generosity, ATF had set up a surveillance op in the apartment block across the road.

Poor Bill was the first good suspect they'd had in months for the smuggling of Cuban cigars.

"Have this on me," Bill said as he handed one to Tony.

Tony looked at it as though it was made of dog crap but politely took it and muttered – 'thanks'. No point in letting your enemy know your plans for the day - was Tony's motto.

His other motto was – 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'.

He went back to work but found he couldn't concentrate. Images and thoughts of Michelle kept intruding as he polished the floors and emptied the trash cans. It was important work but not what he wanted. He wanted to be an agent again. He wanted to be director again.

"Work hard and don't commit treason any more and maybe, just maybe, we'll think about promoting you," Division had told him.

And he did work hard. Yesterday he'd polished all the glass in CTU. He'd never realized before just how much glass there was in CTU.

But these images and thoughts of Michelle kept intruding and he couldn't concentrate. What would Jack do?

"I'd ask her," Jack's voice in his head seemed as clear as if the man had been standing right next to him. "Go and ask her."

Tony nodded. He could just imagine Jack with his gun in his hand yelling "TELL ME WHO THE FATHER IS?"

Tony threw down his mop and went to find is wife. He was, without doubt, a man on a mission.

* * *

He found her in the canteen heartily tucking into her third bowl of spaghetti bolognaise and strawberry ice cream. Never mind eating for two, this woman was eating for the whole of CTU and about half of Division! He sat down beside her and tried not to gag at the mixture of food she was devouring.

"Look, uh, Michelle honey, we have to talk . . ."

"Honey!" Michelle's eyes widened. "God yes! Honey!"

She frantically looked around, desperately searching until she found it on a nearby table. A jar of honey. She reached across and grabbed it and, with a knife, began smearing it over the remains of her lunch.

Tony ignored the mess. "Michelle I need to talk to you about your, uh, condition, and about uh, Bill and you."

"Why?"

"Because you're my wife, and uh . . ."

"We're divorced Tony."

"Legally yes, but . . ."

"No buts about it. We're divorced and we'll stay that way until you can prove to me and Division that you won't commit treason any more."

"I won't commit treason any more, Michelle. I promise," Tony sighed.

"Whatever. Besides, I couldn't possibly be married to you until you become an agent again. Think what that would do to 'my' career."

"But you live with me!"

"That's different."

Tony couldn't see any difference at all but he let it slide.

"So am I the father?"

"What?"

"Me or Bill? Come on Michelle, I've a lot of money riding on this. I need to know."

Michelle's laugh was cruel. "I could ask you the same question about who bought you that new Cubs Mug - Jen or Mandy?"

With murder most foul in his guilt-ridden and broken heart, Tony slunk off.

* * *

to be continued. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Killing an unfaithful, pregnant ex-wife was no easy task, Tony realized. But killing an unfaithful, pregnant wife and getting away with it was gonna be even harder. So what would Jack do?

Ah, that was easy. Jack would set up a colleague to kill his pregnant wife and then uncover the aforementioned colleague as a mole who was forced to kill the aforementioned pregnant wife to ensure her safe escape. Ah, if only Nina was still around.

Hell, if Nina was still around he'd probably never have married Michelle in the first place. He'd still be sleeping with Nina and fuming with jealousy every time she glanced sideways at Jack. He'd still be an agent and he'd still be staring darkly and moodily over his computer screen while sipping from Cubby. Oh yeah. He'd be sipping good quality coffee from the original Cubby, not this badly made, poor quality replica.

He'd probably still have a soul patch.

Life was so much simpler back when your girlfriend was a mole. Nina would never have gotten pregnant.

Okay, so all he had to do was fix it that someone would kill Teri, I mean Michelle, and then he'd tell everyone – "THE KILLER IS A MOLE! GET HER!"

Not only would his child support payments be reduced by a third but he'd get the Merc SUV and maybe even be hailed as the hero of the hour. He'd get the "Jack Bauer Award For Heroin", uh, I mean, Heroism, and maybe even his old job back. Weirder stuff happened.

First of all he had to go check something out.

* * *

Jack was still over the moon about getting what he thought was Juan Pablo Montoya's autograph. He couldn't believe it! He had the autograph of his favourite sporting hero ever safely tucked away in his pocket! He patted his pocket to make sure the signed napkin was still there. The greatest sports hero ever! Well, apart from that guy with the badger on his head who took the Brits to victory over the Aussies at rounders. 

Since he 'died' Jack had a lot more time to watch sport on TV.

But right now he was buying drink like there was no tomorrow. Juanita was half plastered and was trying her best to sober up because she had to work this evening.

"Jackie (hic) please. No more tequila. I gotta work tonight."

"Work? In Pedro's brothel?"

"Ja. I mean si."

"Take the night off. We'll party."

"Nein. I mean no. Et es no possible. I need to make many Euro - I mean Pesos."

The bottle of beer stopped in mid air, halfway between the table and his lips. Jack's eyes narrowed. "Have you ever been to Germany, Juanita?"

"Nein."

"You don't know any one by the name of Nina Myers?"

"Si! Yes! You told me of thees Neener Meers. She was a ferret. . ."

"No. She was a mole."

"Ja. I mean to say mole. My Engleesh 'is not so good. Thees Neener, you told me, she keeled your wife - Teerie. Ja?"

"Yeah. She keeled my wife," Jack muttered morosely, raising the beer to his mouth and drinking away the bad taste that whole horrible day had left in his mouth.

"Insh'Allah." Juanita shrugged her shoulders.

Jack choked on his beer. "What!"

"Eh?" Juanita looked suddenly nervous.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY!"

"Jackie, you frighten me, with your loud voice. Have another beer." Juanita consoled him.

"You're not Turkish, are you?"

"Si. No. I definitely Mexican. I Mexican whore who speek onlee Mexican. Ha, ha, ha. I pick up occasional foreign words from watching too much Discovery Channel." She stood up. "Look, uh, I gotta go to work. Bye. Adios. Adieu. Whatever."

She was out the door in a shot before Jack could really begin his interrogation.

* * *

Tony nipped out to the parking garage and rummaged about inside the glove compartment of his Fiat Uno. He hated this little rust-bucket with a vengeance. Mostly because it was his and he had to park it right beside Michelle's big honkin' Merc SUV. 

Ah, there it was.

He took the envelope out and opened it, carefully unfolding the copy of the most important document that he had ever possessed. Soon a copy of Michelle's death certificate would take pride of place in his home and in his car, but for now it was this precious little gem.

A copy of his pardon, signed by Prez Palmer himself!

Tony looked at it with pride. Not a lot of people had their own personally signed pardon. Well, Nina had one but since she was dead it didn't count.

The original was framed and hung in his bathroom. This was just a mere photocopy and he kept it handy. It was great for getting through police road checks and for parking in no-parking zones. He loved to whip it out, unfold it and show it off to state troopers and the like. He was just so dammed proud of it.

He read it a couple of times, smiling at the bit where it said that he, "Anthony Brian Benito Almeida (his mom had been a big ABBA fan), is hereby pardoned and duly exonerated from the crime of treason . . . blah, blah, blah".

There was about half a page of blah, blah, blahing and then it got to the exciting part – "and with effect from today (insert date) he shall be released and the aforementioned charges shall be expunged from his record."

Then Palmer's signature. Written in real ink too! And it had the Presidential seal on it and it was witnessed by someone who's signature he couldn't make out, but it was probably somebody very, very important like a senator, or a reality TV star, or maybe a judge. Or it could have been Brad Hammond. It was just a squiggle and very hard to read.

Tony read it again just for the fun of it, but then his face creased into a frown as he very carefully folded it up and put it safely back in the envelope.

Shit!

It wasn't as good as Nina's. It only covered treason. It was a second rate pardon and it didn't cover any future crimes he committed.

DAMNIT! SONFABITCH! As Jack would say.

Tony's eyes darkened as he realized that he, a loyal citizen all his life - apart from one little momentary moment of treason - couldn't get as good a pardon as that arch-bitch, ex-girlfriend, uber-mole Nina got.

He had no choice. He had to switch to Plan B.

* * *

to be continued.  
Mandi ;) 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Bill picked up the phone and called Jill.

"Hi Jill. It's me, Bill."

"Oh gosh! Hello Bill."

"How are things with our boy?"

"Crikey! He's a bit of a strange one!"

"Why?"

"Well, he's been just frightful. Drinking a lot and blabbering on about his past, thankfully just to me, and basically he's told me everything."

"Everything?" Bill asked.

"And more," Jill replied.

"So it's confirmed then."

"Oh golly gosh yes. Very much so."

Bill breathed a sigh of relief.

"Um, Bill?"

"Yeah, Jill."

"Any chance when this is all over and done with you and I could meet up for a bit of the old slap and tickle?"

Bill tightened his grip on the phone. Speaking to Jill always gave him a thrill.

"I'd love to Jill. When?"

"Just as soon as possible. All this pretending to be a shady lady of Mexican descent has made me want to ride to hounds again.You could always come down here for a day or two and remind me of the time you were seconded to Thames House. That was an absolutely spiffing weekend."

"Uh, I'd love to." Bill had the will but wasn't sure if he had the strength becauseJill was about the fittest MI6 agent he'd ever met.

"Splendid! Looking forward to it! I'll keep an eye on your boy until then."

"Thank you Jill," said Bill.

* * *

So how do I do it? In the dining room with the lead pipe, or in the conservatory with the rope? Tony hadn't a clue. There were no websites with 'handy hints for killing a spouse' that he could find. What would Jack do?

Well, for starters Jack wouldn't kill his own spouse. Anyone else's, sure. No problem. But he'd never kill his own wife.

"Nah. Get someone else." That would be Jack's advice.

But who? Nina would have been perfect. She'd have killed Michelle without a thought. Maybe a 'what's in it for me?' comment or two but it wouldn't have bothered her at all.

Chloe? She was handy with a weapon. Mandy? Yeah, she'd be great. Messy maybe, but she'd get the job done. Jen? Nah. Too sweet and gentle.

Tony rubbed his forehead. When all was said and done there was no one else to do it.

If you want a job done properly, do it yourself. That was one of his mum's favourite quotes. That, plus nearly all the lyrics from Abba's Greatest Hits. But what his old mum said was true. He'd have to do it himself. It would probably mean getting his shirt dirty and he'd have to change it but he could live with that (so could millions of Tony fans!).

Okay. I'll lure her down to . . . .

"I have information that you are going to be a father. We need to talk about this."

Tony gasped. The object of his murderous intent was standing before him.

My God! She can read my mind. I'm screwed.

"Look, uh, it's not what you think, honey."

She set the transcript down on the table. "Both of them? You bastard!"

"What?"

"These are the transcripts of two phone calls you received this morning. Ms Low-Rent and that skinny trashy lesbo-terrorist are both pregnant! By you!"

"Look, uh, um, uh, uh . . . " Tony was lost for words.

"I think it is soooo sweet that you are going to be a father two times over." Michelle's smile was so sweet but her voice dripped icicles. "You double two-timing can't-remember-to-put-on-a-condom bastard! I'm gonna kill you!"

She grabbed the kitchen knife that Tony just happened to have handy and lunged at him. Tony caught her arm and managed to stop her from stabbing him in the heart.

They wrestled. Back and forth. Michelle had the strength of an insanely jealous woman. Tony had the strength of a very frightened husband.

They wrestled some more. Down on the floor now. Michelle snarled. Tony groaned as her knee connected with the part of his anatomy that had caused all this bother in the first place. Tears came to his eyes. He felt his hold on her arm weakening. She raised the knife, Her eyes . . . Oh god! Her eyes! She really was going to kill him.

Tony fell back on the floor. It was all over. He was seconds from death. He closed his eyes and waited for the pain.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Bill asked.

to be continued  
Mandi


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Juanita snapped her cell phone shut and turned around when she heard the noise behind her. Jack Bauer stood in the doorway, leaning against the door frame, his arms were folded and there was a casual smile on his face.

"Oops!" She returned the smile with a guilty but somehow mischievous look on her face.

Jack sauntered in. "I think you'd better start explaining yourself, Juanita."

"Um well, that might not be so easy." All trace of her Mexican accent disappeared and was immediately replaced by a dead posh Brit one.

"TELL ME WHO YOU'RE WORKING FOR!" Jack yelled.

"I say! There's no need to shout old chap. I'm right here in the room!"

"Sorry. Old habit." Jack shrugged. "So, are you gonna tell me who you're working for or do I have to kill you first?"

Juanita nodded wisely. She'd heard a lot about the wisdom of Jack Bauer.

"Um, why don't we have sex first?"

"Okay." Jack shrugged and started to undress.

"Cor blimey!" Juanita exclaimed, her posh accent disappearing in deference to her Cockney upbringing. This was a girl who had never held a hockey stick or bullied off in her life. This was a girl who had never gone pony trekking or captained the netball team. No, her childhood skills involved joyriding in an old Ford Capri around the estate when she was nine years old, and nicking ten Silk Cut from the corner shop when she had just turned twelve. She was a bit of a late developer.

"That's the biggest fucking candle wick I've ever seen!" she said, eyes widening in surprise and delight at the sight of Jack's weapon. She quickly started to peel off her own clothes.

* * *

Back in the ladies rest room in CTU Michelle kept her eyes closed as she held the pregnancy test kit in her hand. She mentally counted off the time and cautiously opened one eye and peered at the result. It was positive. 

"Oh fuck."

She opened her other eye to check. Yep. It was still positive. It was so positive it was off the scale. The reading was about as high as George Mason's Geiger counter. It couldn't be any more positive.

"Shit!" Michelle frowned as she remembered her foolishness. One ten minute encounter and now she was pregnant. One for the road, he had said. "Cause I'll probably never see you again," he had said, winning her over with his puppy dog eyes and his sexy grin and the fact that he was a wanted man who had just faked his own death and was about to start the life of an exile.

"Damn!" She threw the kit in the trash and looked at her face in the mirror. Once Tony found out she was dead. She knew she'd have to act quickly. She patted her perfect curls into place, took a deep breathe and headed back up to CTU.

* * *

Chloe watched from the other room. As soon as Michelle disappeared she went into the rest room and found what she was looking for in the trash can. 

"Excellent," she grinned. Her bet was safe.

She quickly photographed the evidence and with a smile on her face and a skip in her step she went back upstairs.

* * *

Jack and Jill went up the hill – uh, sorry, wrong story. Jack and Jill were doing 'The Spy Who Loved Me' for the second time in fifteen minutes. Jill was gasping for a smoke and finally shoved Jack off her and rolled back to her side of the bed. She sat up and pulled on her clothes then reached for a ciggie. 

"So, are you going to tell me the truth now?" Jack leaned back against the pillow, a satisfied look on his face. "Who do you work for? What is your real name? And how do you know Juan Pablo Montoya?"

"I work for MI5. My name is Bond, Jill Bond. No honestly, it is. And I'm afraid I don't know Juan Pablo Montoya. Well, I do know he's a racing driver but I don't know him personally. I do however, know Juan Pablo Salazar."

"Who?" Jack sat up.

"He's the nephew of Ramon and Hector Salazar. And he wants revenge."

"But you're gonna help me?" Jack looked really worried.

Jill shrugged. "If I have to. It's not really my primary objective."

"WHAT IS YOUR PRIMARY OBJECTIVE?"

"TO MAKE YOU STOP YELLING SO MUCH!"

* * *

Back at CTU, Michelle had a primary objective of her own. To kill Tony. He was the cause of all her problems. He had been unfaithful. He had committed treason and went to jail. He had been pardoned and had waltzed back into CTU and her life with hardly as much as a by your leave. He was the reason her career was going nowhere. And he was the reason she was pregnant with Jack Bauer's child – if he hadn't nipped back into CTU to get his precious Cubs mug she never would have given Jack a quickie in the back seat of the SUV. 

Tony had to die. Everything was his fault.

In another part of CTU, Tony was thinking along similar lines. Michelle, he now realized, was the cause of all his problems. He had committed treason for her. He'd gone to jail for her. He'd been unfaithful because she'd spurned him. He'd gotten Jen pregnant because – um - okay that had been him. But he'd gotten Mandy pregnant because Michelle had allowed him back into CTU where Mandy had kidnapped him thus beginning their affair. He'd lost his best friend because it had been Michelle's idea that Jack faked his own death. And now Bill Buchanan smirked at him because his wife – okay his ex-wife - had slept with him.

Yes. She had to die. Everything was her fault.

Michelle knew she had to make it look good. It had to be justified. It had to be in self-defense or in the best interests of national security, or something. She thought long and hard about it. Then came to what she believed was the best possible decision. She rummaged about in her desk drawer for a moment or two and came up with a gun, a length of rope, and of all the strange things to find in one's desk drawer - a packet of rat poison.

Tony knew he had to make it look good. It had to be justified. Something along the lines of self-defense, and as soon as she learned about Mandy and Jen's pregnancies, it would be without any doubt self-defense. Or, failing that, it had to be in the best interests of the nation – something that would make Michelle look bad and make him look good. He wanted to be hailed as an ex-wife murdering hero. Not just an ex-wife murderer. He got his hold-all out of his locker and lifted out a hunting knife, a piece of lead piping, and of all the weird things to carry in one's hold-all - a candle stick.

* * *

To be continued - hopefully just one more chapter!  
Mandi :) 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Tony scratched his head and looked at the gun in his desk drawer. It had belonged to his great-grandfather and it was old. It dated back to a time when bad guys were bad and good guys were good and there was no in between like there was today. Back to a time when Cluedo was just a board game and not an investigative procedure. Back to a time when one's missus wore an apron, baked apple pie and didn't know how to go down.

Tony sighed. Back in those days he would never have had a reason to kill his wife unless she burned the apple pie.

He logged on to her computer and inserted the necessary evidence. First of all he added some fake phone calls between her and Juan Pablo Salazar confirming to the little bar-tending weasel that the guy in question, Jack Bauer, was a former the CTU agent who was responsible for the deaths of his beloved uncles. Then he added a forged birth certificate showing Ramon Salazar as Michelle's father. He then added some dodgy bank records – showing her transferring a considerable sum of money into a company known as Columbian Fields Of Dreams Inc. Then finally, an email to her therapist blabbering on about her 'habit' and how the only way she could finance it was by selling secrets to some dude in Iraq called Omar.

Tony looked at his hard work and smiled. An evil smile if ever there was one. That should be enough, he thought. Just one more little item and she'd be tried and convicted and executed. He entered a faked up, even sexed up, voice recording that would prove to the world that Michelle had let the Chinese know the name of the hotel in Mexico where Jack was hiding.

Michelle was upstairs putting the finishing touches to a memo to Bill –outlining her ex-husbands plot to kill her because he was frightened of her finding out about the two women he had gotten pregnant. She finished it by adding –

_Bill, by the time you read this he will have killed me. Please make sure when he regains consciousness that he gets the death penalty.  
Love and kisses,  
Michelle._

* * *

Bill looked at the memo Michelle had written and read it again. Normally he would have taken it seriously but he'd just received a tip off from Edgar that ATF were about to move in on him and he was already packing to run off. He had an airline ticket for Aruba and had already transferred his considerable funds to an offshore account there. (The same one George used, incidentally). He gathered up his briefcase, told the guy on the gate that he was "uh - going to check out a lead in er – Bakersfield", and drove like someone possessed to the airport.

* * *

Jack and Jill were now up the hill. They climbed to the top and stood there, holding hands and watching the sun setting. They were completely in lurve.

* * *

"Holy Thit!" Edgar exclaimed as he took a second look at his computer screen. This was impossible. He rechecked his data. There was no doubt in his mind.

"Hey Chloe. Can you take a look at what I've got?"

Chloe sighed. "No way Edgar. I really don't want to see your new Nazi-Lesbian screensaver. Besides, that is just not possible with an Iron Cross. Trust me."

Edgar quickly changed back to the official CTU screensaver. "No. I mean it Chloe. Take a look at what I've found."

"What?"

"C'mere."

Chloe got up and casually leaned over Edgar's shoulder to peer at the screen. Edgar had the nearest thing he'd ever had to a sexual experience, swallowed hard and prayed that she didn't look down.

"We gotta tell Mr. Buchanan," he mumbled.

"Um, yeah, that would probably be what we should do normally but right now we um, can't."

"Why not?"

"He's gone. To um, Bakersfield."

"Bakersfield?" Edgar squeaked. "Isn't that where Mason went when he got wind of the nuclear bomb?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Does thith mean there's another nuclear bomb?"

"No, it's much worse this time." Chloe frowned.

She looked around the big room. Bill had done a runner. Jack was um, dead-ish. Tony was cleaning the coffee machine and frowning moodily and Michelle was somewhere, plotting something, or fixing her make-up, or straightening her skirt, or mixing rat poison in Cubby2.

"Oh fuck, I'm in charge,' Chloe realized, and then a grin spread over her face. 'Hey! I'm in charge. Whoo-ho!'

* * *

They'd cut him off en route to the airport and he'd swung the car around and spun the wheels and now Bill Buchanan was on the interstate and still about five miles from the outskirts of Bakersfield, driving as fast as he could and throwing cigars out of the window in the futile hope that it would slow down the convoy of ATF guys that were hot on his tail. It wasn't working. They were gaining on him.

One ATF guy who was pretty neat with a rifle leaned out of the car and took aim.

* * *

Jack and Jill were 'coming back down the hill' so to speak just as the hotel room door burst open and in stormed Juan Pablo Salazar with a big gun in his hand.

"So gringo," he sneered, twirling an imaginary mustache. "First of all you keel my uncles and now you steeel my ho. I weel keel you for that."

Jack looked up and frowned. "You don't by any chance know a guy called Victor Drazen?"

"Neever heerd of hem," Juan Pablo sneered. "Now I weel keel you."

Jill's head ducked out from under the covers. "I say! That's a bit much! Calling me a whore like that. It's just not on old chap."

She dropped Jack's weapon and grabbed her own from under the pillow.

BAM!

Jack screamed and jumped in fright while Juan Pablo, a nice neat little bullet wound in his forehead, slithered down the wall, leaving a terrible trail of blood and brains on the wallpaper.

"Nice shot," Jack feigned a steady heartbeat and reached, oh so casually, for his trousers.

"Nah. Close range is always easy," Jill smiled. "I simply hate being called a ho."

"So, Ms Bond," Jack smiled suavely, taking off his trousers again and putting on his best Sean Connery voice as he reached for her hand, carefully pushing the still smoking gun away. "How do you like your martinis? Shaken not stirred, I presume."

"Neither. I fucking hate martini. Let's go get some voddy."

* * *

Michelle crept up on him from behind. Surprise always being the best option. Take 'em quickly and take 'em hard, was her motto.

But she forgot one important thing. She'd been married to Tony Almeida for three years and he knew her every move. He ducked out of the way at the last second, swung around and grabbed her by the throat.

"You traitorous bitch!" His eyes flashed anger and hatred. "You slept with Bill and you're carrying his child! You screwed around with your boss when I was getting gang-raped by large hairy men in prison! You've been on the make for years and you have a fortune stashed away in a certain South American company! You sold out your country for a few dollars more because of your poor dear dead daddy – Ramon Salazar! You've just signed the death warrant for the best friend I ever had, and you know I'll bet you probably framed Nina too. I'm gonna kill you!"

While Tony was summing up all the false evidence for the benefit of the reader and eventually the jury, Michelle grabbed her knife – the rat poison being out of reach and fairly useless in this situation – and stabbed at Tony.

"I'm – not – uh – I'm not . . ." Confused, she stopped. "Uh Tony, could you run that by me again. I didn't get it all."

Enraged, Tony tightened his grip on her throat with one hand and reached for her knife with the other. But not before she got to stick it to him once more with feeling, right in his ribs.

My old mum always maintained that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach. Wrong mum, it's through the ribs. Michelle discovered that her mum had been as wrong as mine because she missed Tony's heart and punctured his lung instead.

With an evil smile she twisted the knife, making him bleed. Making him moan in pain and making him wheeze like a two pack a day man.

Then something about him moaning brought all the memories of their ill-fated marriage flooding back to her and her grip on the knife relaxed and a loving smile came to her lips.

Too late, she realized her mistake. Tony grabbed the handle, heroically and with considerable pain he pulled the blade from between his ribs and stuck it into Michelle. Her loving smile vanished immediately to be replaced by a sneer of hatred and a grimace of pain.

Again and again Tony stuck it into her. (Please ignore the sexual imagery here, folks. It is so not the time or the place).

Tony cut and slashed over and over again.

"I . . .never . . . slept . . . with . . I'm . . .not . . . pregn . . .I have . . . the . . flu . . . Ramon . . . wasn't my daddy . . . . and I'm . . .not on the. . .take." Michelle gasped. "Oh and I didn't rat on Jack."

"Liar," Tony yelled.

"Honest. I didn't. I'm not."

"You are a liar. Everyone is taking about your pregnancy," Tony paused in his knife thrusts – he was getting more than a little tired. "I even heard you telling Bill. That's why he got out the cigars. He was delighted."

"No! I told him that Jack was alive. That's why he was so pleased."

"Oh," Tony looked surprised. "Oh well. It doesn't matter now. I still gotta kill you. No hard feelings?"

He stabbed her one last time, driving the knife deep into her unfaithful heart.

Michelle's eyes grew wide. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek.

"Oh Tony," she whispered. "No hard feelings my darling."

She reached underneath her and pulled out her spare knife and plunged it deeply into Tony's neck, just where the old bullet scar was. Just where she'd always liked to tickle him.

Her eyes glazed over and a deep, dying breath escaped from her perfect lips as Tony collapsed on top of her.

* * *

"Whew, that was good," Jack collapsed on top of Jill.

They lay entwined, catching their breath and enjoying the moment. Then Jack's cell phone rang.

"Shit!" Jack carefully extricated himself from Jill's SAS-trained grip and put his trousers on again.

"I have to go back to LA," he explained, his lip trembling. "It's – it's Tony. He . . . oh God . . . I have to go to him. I'm sorry."

* * *

CTU Clinic 8.05pm

Jack quietly entered the room. Tears filled his eyes as he saw his friend lying on the bed. There were tubes coming out of every available place that they could come out of and wires connecting him to all kinds of equipment. Tony's eyes were closed and he beeped a lot.

Jack pulled up a chair and sat down. "Hey Tony. Hey buddy. You're gonna be ok."

Tony just lay there and beeped.

Distraught, Jack turned to the doctor. "Will he live?"

The doctor shrugged. "Doubt it. In a proper hospital maybe. In here, not a chance."

"I see," Jack gulped and fought back the tears. "And Michelle?"

"Oh man, she's dead as a dodo. I mean, all those stab wounds . . ."

Jack nodded. "I'd like to see her body."

The doctor shrugged again. "Oh yeah. Sure. Whatever floats your boat, dude. She's next door."

Jack entered the morgue and pulled the sheet back. Yeucch. Tony had certainly done his work. There wasn't a piece of her that had been left untouched. Gallons of blood had dripped from her and Jack almost slipped in one of the puddles on the floor. He leaned down to what resembled her ear.

"So long, bitch!"

Jack dropped the sheet and went back to sit beside Tony and hold his hand until he came out of his coma, or died and left him for ever.

* * *

Chloe got the DNA results back from the lab and cashed in her bets, and every one else's, and retired to an island about a thousand miles from Fiji. There, she met a doctor called Jack, an ex Republican Guard guy called Sayid, and a big fella called Hurley who reminded her a little of Edgar. She spent her days fishing swimming and exploring the caves while trying to decide which of these castaways she would hook up with.

Since no one was left alive, or in a fit state to run things, Edgar was appointed Director of CTU. His first task was to scrap the old CTU screensaver and install a new one.

The end.

Well, I'm glad that's over! Now I can go start my Spooks fan fic!  
Mandi :)


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